


Seventy-Two Hours

by Sevenwildwaysup



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Love, M/M, Understanding, compassion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 15:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13999071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevenwildwaysup/pseuds/Sevenwildwaysup
Summary: Both Brian and Justin stress out about confessing their sins…





	Seventy-Two Hours

Title: Seventy Two Hours…  
Story Type: AU  
Word Count: 1178  
Warnings: Love, Understanding, Compassion…  
Beta Queen: BigJ52

 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are property of their respective owners, including, but not limited to Russell T. Davies, Cowlip, and Showtime. The author of this story is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended…

Story Summary: Both Brian and Justin stress out about confessing their sins…

**Seventy-Two Hours**

 

Brian’s POV

Christ! The timing of this couldn’t be worse, and I can just imagine his reaction. I was hoping we were getting back on track. I’ve been an asshole since he returned, mostly because of my residual anger about him going to California. It was so typical that he’d leave me again, just when I was ready to seriously give our relationship a chance. I know I pushed him to go, when I really wanted him to stay. I’m a master of misdirection. Who knows? Maybe it was an act of self-preservation. He has no idea how fearful I am that he’ll reject me if I were to suddenly chance, and admit my true feelings. I take a deep breath and pull back the loft door. I’m anything but ready for the confrontation that’s about to happen.

 

Justin’s POV

I’ve been fucking nervous all afternoon. I don’t know how I’m going to tell him. I still can’t believe that it’s happening. I hope it’s not another nail in our coffin, as our relationship dies a slow death. I’ve been acting like a total twat lately, pushing and demanding things from him that I know he’s not ready to give me. 

I went grocery shopping on the way home to distract my mind from obsessing about my situation. Now I’m absentmindedly cooking enough food to feed an army. I guess I can always take it the Grassi House, because I’m pretty sure neither one of us is going to want to eat dinner after my confession. I hear the loft door being pulled open, and wonder what the fuck he is doing home so early. It’s only 4 pm. 

Take a deep breath, you can do this…

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah. My meeting ended sooner than expected.”

For the moment we both avoid looking at one another, feeling all the tension in the air.

Say something nice, Kinney. Maybe you can make it through dinner before the inquisition begins.

“Something smells good.”

Christ, he almost sounds chipper. This would be easier if he was all pissy. That way we could just fight, and get it over with.

“I made Jambalaya.”

“I love your Jambalaya.”

So far, so good… I come up behind him and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck. This might be the only affection I get from him for a while. He turns in my arms, putting his arms around my neck. He kisses me with so much passion, telling me how much he loves me. I hold him tight, letting him know I feel the same way, praying that he can still read me, and forgive me when all hell breaks loose. We pull back and look deeply into each other’s eyes, both revealing concern and confusion. 

Christ, he knows something’s up…

“I’m going to grab a quick shower before dinner.”

Please don’t join me, please don’t join me, please don’t join me…

Justin’s grateful for the reprieve, it gives him a few more minutes to think of a way to break the news.

Brian comes out of the bedroom, with wet hair dripping on his shirtless chest, dressed in his 501’s with the top button undone. Justin’s sitting on the sofa looking pensive. There’s a joint in the ashtray, with two tumblers of Beam on the coffee table. I reach down to light the joint, inhaling the smoke into my lungs, hoping to relieve some of my stress. We clink our glasses together, and take a gulp of the amber liquid, feeling it burn slightly as it goes down our throats. 

I guess there’s no time like the present…

“Justin, there’s something I need to tell you.”

He says the same thing simultaneously…

We both just look at each other, and again at the exact time we say, “You go first.” 

“No, you.”

Then we’re saved by the bell, as the timer goes off in the kitchen.

“Oh, that’s the cornbread.”

Thank God. “Why don’t we table this discussion until after dinner?”

“Great idea.”

I always want to eat when I’m stressed.

Brian opens up a bottle of wine, and I’m grateful. I really need a glass to get through dinner. Dinner stretches out over an hour, as we make idle chit-chat about absolutely nothing. Brian ends up having two bowls of Jambalaya, and a huge piece of cornbread. Then he opens a second bottle of wine, as we make our way back to the sofa for our big reveal.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I made dessert.”

“A penicillin tart?”

“No, a chocolate chocolate chip cake.”

I smile, knowing it’s his favorite. “Wait, what did you say?”

“Nothing! Nothing. Let’s have cake.”

“No, you said penicillin.” My heart is racing, and I can’t help wondering if he found my prescription in the bathroom, even though I know I left it in my book bag.

 

Brian’s POV

“Justin, I went to the doctor today.”

Again, he just said the exact same thing. We both look at each other, and then I have a lap full of my blond twink. He kisses me and asks me if I’m alright, if my cancer’s back.

I take a deep breath, “No. I have syphilis.”

He pulls back just staring at me, and then he bursts out laughing. I expected an intense reaction from him, but not his hysterical laughter that’s filling the loft. He catches his breath, looks back up at me, and then he’s laughing again.

“I’m so glad you find this funny.”

“I don’t. I really don’t.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because I went to the doctor today too, and found out I have syphilis.” 

Simultaneously, we both say, “I’m so sorry. I never meant to get you sick.”

I pull him into my arms, grateful that he’s not queening out and relieved that he understands how I’m feeling.

“Do you think it was that guy from Babylon? The one who won the ‘Perfect Pecs’ contest?”

“Maybe. He was a total whore. He loved taking turns being fucked by each of us, while sucking the other off.”

“He was a good fuck. His ass was so nice and tight.”

“Yeah, but he gave lousy head. He was too slobbery and he didn’t cover his teeth.”

“Well, no one’s as perfect as you, Sunshine.”

Grinning, Justin pulls me towards him. “You’re damn right, and don’t you forget it!”

“Never.”

We spend the next few hours making out like teenagers, rubbing up against one another, giving hand jobs to one another, or watching each other as we jerk ourselves off. By the time we’re both spent, we’re covered in cum and in need of a nice hot shower. 

Afterwards we dress in our sluttiest clothes and head out to Babylon to spread the word. After all, we may be whores, but we don’t want to start a syphilis epidemic at our favorite playground. 

Over the next seventy-two hours Brian gives Justin a chance to indulge in his missed teenage youth and sexual experimentation, without actually going all the way.

“Now you know what petting is…”

The End


End file.
